


'Essence strong...need more samples.'

by novicescribe



Category: StarCraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novicescribe/pseuds/novicescribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeratul organized a diplomatic conference of all the three major races to prepare a common effort against the Xel'naga Amon. That is not without problems however, which worries Tassadar, appearing himself for the important occasion. He runs into an Abathur studying Terran culinary feats and decides to share in nourishments with his co-guest. What 'essence' could he possibly offer to the zerg though?</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Essence strong...need more samples.'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Genll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genll/gifts).



> Abathur & Tassadar on a search, just before the Legacy of the Void storyline. The background is a long shot of course, but that is what fanfiction is all about :). 
> 
> I'm not quite an expert on Starcraft, so please kindly indulge any inconsistencies in the storyline. I've written this story for a friend I care about. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a nice sunny day, the rays emanating from Urun’s great sun piercing through the leaves of the trees and casting shadows of all in their way. Tassadar however could not give himself over to the mood of still calmness. ’The calm before the storm.’ – he mused. It was the day before which the inter-species conference on the galactic emergency was to start its sessions. ’A miracle how Zeratul managed that.’ 

Indeed, it was a miracle. Not only the Protoss have gathered in large numbers on orbital trajectory and now on the surfrace, but the Terrans too have been induced to come. Even the Zerg. Yes, the Zerg held back from trying to devour the essence of their enemies (for what else could they be?) for two whole days now. There have been incidents for sure. A drunken Dominion Marine has nearly provoked the whole of the three fleets to fire in anger when he took a piss last night. Apparently, he failed to realize that he let his ’essence’ slipping on a hydralisk. The Zerg were only held back from an immadiate attack by Kerrigan’s decisive intervention. Still, even that might have not been enough, were it not for Zeratul, who brought them something they’ve never seen yet: a rare specimen from the planet Isha, a bird-like creature that produced a special venom, that could be used as an energy source, a weapon or as a parfume even. Abathur was quite eager to examine the samples. 

’The sooner this is over with, the better.’ – Tassadar thought as he looked out of the window. They didn’t have much time anyway. The great danger, their common enemy beckoned on the far edges of the galaxy, the thin veil separating their world and the void. And he was coming for them. Yes, Amon was coming for them all.  


Such thoughts weighed heavily on the Savior of the Templar. Well, even heroes could worry…and get hungry. Tassadar felt the compelling need to visit the kitchen of the manor he was quartered in. He rather liked that piece of Terran architechture. It seemed implausible that those savages only interested in killing, more killing and inventing extremely leathal weapons for more killing could manage to produce something that perfect. Harmony. Elegance. The love of life and beauty in a measured dignity and self-restraint. It was raw, but almost protoss in spirit. He took the stairs made of oak wood and covered in a red linen carpet. Terran extravagance for sure. But at least they had style.

’The same cannot be said of his kind.’ Tassadar thought. He felt some dismay at his reaction as he quickly reminded himself that narrow-minded intolerance and rejection was not the path of his kind. The protoss prided themselves in their enlightened views on life and other creatures. He shouldn’t allow himself, even for a moment of weakness to disparage others like that. Still…it was very hard ignoring the stench as a clumsy creature was slipping through the marble floor. ’The slug’ Terrans called him. It. Whatever. Tassadar stepped into the kitchen through the open door – oak, again – looking for nourishments. He looked around, but nothing in particular catched his eyes. Except for the Schwarzwäld cake on the counter, next to the creature. It definitely was not intent on greeting the newcomer, so he decided to be polite and come first with the greetings. 

’Good morning, Abathur.’ He called out. The zerg was visibly annoyed at such an inconvenient – and indeed, insignificant – distraction. 

’Organism Tassadar. Requiring service?’ – he asked.

’No, thank you Abathur. I was just looking for something to eat.’ 

’Good. Liquids behind bar. Ingredients of various kind in fridge. Dishes prepared by hosts in next room.’ 

Abathur was unusually helpful, a welcome change. He surely liked the present Zeratul brought him.

’I’m much obliged, thank you.’ – Tassadar replied.

’Organism Tassadar. Assistance required.’ – the Zerg called out, with some marked hesitation.

’But of course, what’s the matter Abathur?’ – Tassadar asked.

’Cake. Taste beyond adequate description. Sucrose too strong. Liquid required during consumption.’ The zerg was not usually someone people would perceive as a person with refined tastes. Or someone to eat. Aside from other creatures of course. He seemed quite intent on consuming the cake’s essence though. For the sake of the negotiations, Tassadar decided to render his assistance to it. Even if he held out no hope of getting some of the cake himself.

’I see, what about some wine then? I hear that the agricultural colony of the Terrans on Proximina-7 produce excellent red.’ 

’Terran beverage. Distasteful. Not pure in essence.’ – Abathur replied.

’What about some Protoss ’’Kaldron’’ then? My people drink it during especially glorious festivities.’ That should convince the zerg for sure.

’Inadequate. Harmful to sequences. Incompatibility between chemicals.’ – Abathur’s prevarication was getting Tassadar’s patience running short. 

’Very well, I think I have just the thing in mind.’ – he replied. The zerg crossed his upper ’hands’ and was standing still, waiting with what Tassadar reckoned was anticipation in his eyes…spitting acid from his mouth in the meantime. ’Good thing that the Terrans thought of everything and covered all the surfaces with a neutralizer element.’ – Tassadar thought. 

He kneeled down to open the lower cupboard in the right corner of the room. He pressed the back of the construct, and in a moment a secret hideout appeared. Jim Raynor told him in the pre-assembly negotiations that ’You ever need to clear your head, just press the back of the cupboard in the right corner, in the ground level’s kitchen.’ So, he did exactly that. Raynor’s surprise – and what else could be, but some fine terran brewery? – was surely to please Abathur. ’Ya can never bond with yer mate as o’er a fine shot of rum.’ – a Marine told him. Now, it was time to try the trick. 

It was the time, but something critical was missing: the surprise. Tassadar wondered where it had gone. He stood up, confused and agitated. 

’Situation unforseen. Organism Tassadar disorganized. Nourishment helps regain focus.’ – with that, the creature offered, holding a plate with a slice of cake on it with two of its fangs. A mystery how it got the cake on the plate, without rendering it unedible for the protoss with acid. That was unforseen indeed. 

’Thank you, Abathur. Much appreciated.’ – Tassadar said. He took the plate and began eating the cake. The ’evolution-boss’ as the protoss informally termed the creature was quite clear about what brought such an occurance to bear. 

’Common feasting promotes cohesion. Facilitates alliance. Must work together.’ – he said. 

He was right about that. All parts actually. Tassadar nodded with one bite in his mouth. It was truly delicious. He finished off the slice, then put down the plate. 

’And now’ – he said with an overbearing significance ringining in his intonation. ’we shall find Raynor’s surprise! Adventure time!’ – he exclaimed in a heroic posture. 

The zerg was clearly taken aback by such a display of enthusiasm. The protoss were not a people to posture like that. ’Terran food has extraordinary effects. Must take samples to study.’ – it thought. 

Tassadar opened the backdoor of the kitchen that lead to the staff’s resting room, gesturing to Abathur to follow him. And so it did. Needless to say that the Terran staff could barely catch their breath as they walked (or in Abathur’s case: slided) into the room. One could hear only the great clock ticking over the arch. Finally the butler stepped forward to ask

’Anything we can help you with my Lords?’ 

Abathur kept spitting acid as he breathed. He must have looked terrifying to the maids and the footmen, based on their facial expressions. 

’As you were.’ – Tassadar answered a moment later, after he looked around. After that the pair ventured to spend the day with their quest for their grail, scaring the staff – in the middle of preparations for the conference – to death. 

Several maids fainted, while the footman usually turned pale-white. At least the guards were not worried. Or didn’t look so. After a whole afternoon spent searching the three different bathrooms, four drawing rooms, seventeen bedrooms and two music halls, they arrived to the great library. The search by this point became almost an obsession, regardless of the original purpose of using the ’surprise’ to ease the process of consuming the cake downstairs. 

Abathur pulled open the door, using the great knockers, shaped in gold like lion-heads. On entering the room they discovered Kerrigan and Raynor sleeping in two chairs, upholstered in burgundy eye to eye with each other. Well…they would have been, were they not asleep. An almost empty bottle on the table across them made the case self-explanatory. 

’I think this day has been a great success.’ – Tassadar remarked. 

Abathur slided to the table and took the bottle, bringing it to Tassadar. ’Open mouth.’ – he said.

The protoss decided that cooperation was not only recommended, but actually desirable. So he obliged. Then, without notice the zerg poured half of the remaining liquid into his mouth. It was a very special whisky, which felt extremely soothing after such a laborous day. Abathur followed up by emptying the bottle itself.

’Essence strong. Need more samples.’ – he said, after putting down the bottle quietly, taking care not to wake up the two sleeping ones.

’I quite agree.’ – Tassadar said.


End file.
